


the bookworm at the bar

by brightest_stars



Series: St Patrick's Day Event — brightest_stars submissions [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bars and Pubs, Bellamione Coven's St Patrick's Day Event, Discord: Bellamione Coven, F/F, Fluff, Hermione is a bookworm, Narcissa and Hermione are the same age, Narcissa is a snob, but it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 00:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightest_stars/pseuds/brightest_stars
Summary: Narcissa is in a pub that she doesn't want to be in, waiting. And there's a bookworm at the bar.Bellamione Coven St Patrick's Day Event NSFW Prompt 1. Picking up the hot girl from the bar
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Series: St Patrick's Day Event — brightest_stars submissions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2214654
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	the bookworm at the bar

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW Prompt 1. Picking up the hot girl from the bar (but it's not NSFW at all)
> 
> Enjoy y'all! Let me know what you think :)

Narcissa can feel her spine, as straight as a ruler, as strong as iron.

This place isn’t her usual haunt. In fact, she’d really rather not be here. But Andy asked to talk to her. Narcissa hasn’t seen her older sister in months, nearly a year, since she married her long-time secret boyfriend.

Of course, Narcissa had known all about Ted Tonks, Andromeda had never been able to keep a secret from her baby sister.

Narcissa lets her blue eyes scan the bar for her sister once more. She’s used to smart restaurants and cocktail bars, exclusive clubs and upper-class tea rooms. Not dingy pub/bar combos.

The lighting is dim, the floors are sticky, and the velvet barstools are threadbare. The leather booths are cracking, the tables are wobbly. Most of the patrons are middle-aged men, balding, with beer bellies, slumped at the tables and the bar as they nurse their pints.

One person stands out. A young woman with wild hair sitting at the bar. She’s drinking red wine and has her nose buried in a book.

The vibration of her phone in her jeans pocket causes Narcissa to set down her glass of New Zealand sauvignon blanc, and pull her gaze away from the woman at the bar. She pulls out her phone and frowns.

_ From: Andromeda _

_ Sorry Cissy, I’m running late! I’ll be there in 15 minutes. Love you! Don’t leave :) _

Narcissa sighs. She knows that Andy knows that she won’t leave. Her glass empties quickly when Narcissa lifts it to her lips. she rises fluidly from her booth by the grubby window, and strides to the bar. She can feel the eyes on her from all over the pub. Narcissa Black knows she’s beautiful. She’s captivating, she always has been. And here, she stands out like a big, red, sore thumb.

The barmaid is clearly otherwise occupied at the other end of the bar, batting her eyelashes at a punter. Narcissa slams her glass down on the sticky wooden bar with a clink.

The bookworm looks up, eyebrows raised, hazel eyes wide.

Narcissa raises a perfectly shaped brow in a challenge, as if to say ‘ _ what? What have I done that has disturbed you so? Tell me, I dare you _ ’.

Sitting gingerly on the barstool one over from the brunette, Narcissa lowers her brow. “I apologise. I am waiting for someone. She’s late.” The words come out without her really meaning for them to fall from her red lips. Why is she explaining herself to a bookworm in a grubby bar?

The brunette’s lips curve into a small smile. “That’s alright,” she says mildly. “Lateness  _ is _ rather irritating, especially when you don’t want to be here.” Narcissa splutters. “Bring a book next time?” The brunette suggests.

“I — how did you — I —” Narcissa sucks in a frustrated breath. “I do want to be here. I haven’t seen my sister in a very long time.”

She laughs. That bookworm actually has the gall to laugh at Narcissa. As she chortles, her hair bounces, and her eyes sparkle with mirth.

The barmaid finally comes over. “The same again.” Narcissa demands, and she pours another glass of with a sulky pout.

Narcissa takes a large gulp of wine. Even shitty wine is better than no wine, she thinks as she feels the alcohol buzz reignite in her veins. She’s nowhere near drunk, unfortunately, but the pleasant fizz of something altering is just enough to keep her here, waiting for Andy and sitting next to this infernal woman.

The laughter next to her dies down. “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me,” she apologies, a wide smile still curving her lips.

“Yes.” Narcissa says curtly.

“It’s just you  _ don’t _ want to be here -” she holds up a hand when Narcissa starts to refute her again. Narcissa is so shocked at the brazenness that she actually stops talking “You want to see your sister. I’m betting that she picked this place, not you.” She gives a frowning once-over to the pub. “I’m Hermione, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand.

Slowly, narcissa shakes her hand with a firm grip. Hermione gives her an appraising look and a small smile. “Narcissa.”

“Hm.” Hermione makes a small sound of intrigue.

“So why are you here then?” Narcissa pobes. Somehow, she knows this woman won’t mind her being a little nosy.

“Oh! My best friends work nearby they’re policemen. I'm waiting for them. Hence the book.” She smirks at Narcissa.

Her lips are pale pink, lighter than Narcissa’s own, but fuller too, and definitely more prone to smiling. Her nose is lightly dusted with freckles, and crinkled in amusement.She’s beautiful.

Not the kind of show-stopping, everyone turns and looks, constant attention beauty that Narcissa has been blessed —  _ or cursed — _ with, but in a warm, slow, and perpetual way that Narcissa knows will never fade. Hermione’s beauty comes from the inside, her soul lights up her body.

Narcissa will never possess this kind of beauty. She’s cold, and closed off, a perfect statue. Hermione has all the warmth and vitality of a living, breathing human. Narcissa’s beauty will vanish with age.

Narcissa leans closer, almost against her will. Her lips part a little, breath rushing past them. Hermione mirrors her movement, hands floating away from her book, about to reach for Narcissa’s body—

“Cissy!!” A screech comes from across the room, and Narcissa snaps back slipping gracefully off the worn barstool ust in time for a dark-haired woman to collide with her.

“Andy,” Narcissa breathes into her sister’s honey-scented bear hug. Forcing against every fibre of her being, she feels tears well up in her cerulean eyes.

After what really is an unseemly length of time for an embrace, Andy pulls back. “Oh my god, look at you, you’ve grown!” She gushes, brown eyes soaking in every detail of her sister.

Now that she’s moved back, and Narcissa properly has a chance to look at her sister, she notices what felt different. “I’ve grown? Have you looked in a mirror, Andy?”

Andromeda laughs, hands leaving Narcissa’s shoulders and falling to rest on her protruding belly. “Oh, yeah. You’re going to be an aunty, Cissy,” she says, joy in every syllable of her words.

“Congratulations,” Narcissa murmurs. “Come, you should sit down.” Andromeda rolls her eyes, but Narcissa takes her by the elbow anyway and guides her back to her booth.

She glances back over her shoulder at the bookworm at the bar — at  _ Hermione _ . She’s picked up her book again, but her hazel eyes are watching Narcissa walk away. She smiles softly, warmly. Narcissa’s stomach flips. She turns away.

Andromeda smirks at her as Narcissa pushes her gently into the booth. “I’ll get you a drink.”

“No a-”

“No alcohol, I know. I’m not completely ignorant, Andy.” Narcissa marches back to the bar and knocks back a mouthful of wine. “Excuse me,” she snaps, and the barmaid slouches over.

“Yeah?”

“Tonic water with lemon please. No gin.” Narcissa is cradling her wine glass in her hands.

“Your sister seems nice.” Hermione says, smiling over at Andromeda briefly. “Congratulations on becoming an aunt. Your first time?”

“Thank you, it is,” Narcissa smiles at Hermione’s honest face. “She’s a bit of a black sheep, actually.”

The barmaid plonks Andromeda’s drink onto the bar.

Narcissa pulls her phone out of her pocket. It’s the latest iPhone.  _ Blacks must have the best _ , her father had said when she found the box on her pillow, wrapped in a silver ribbon. She unlocks it and sets up a new contact, with Hermione’s name.

“Can I have your number? I’d like to take you on a date.” She asks with confidence, self-assuredness, but for the first time in her life, her heart flutters as she waits for Hermione to take the outstretched phone.

After a moment, Hermione’s face lights up with a wide grin and a pink flush. She takes Narcissa’s phone from her hand, fingers brushing like feathers. 

Hermione hands Narcissa back her phone. She’s put in her number, added her surname — Granger — and the stack of books emoji next to her name.

Narcissa feels her lips curve into a relieved smile, and as Hermione’s fingers brush hers again, she catches the brunette’s hand in her own. “Thank you,” she says earnestly, and she lifts Hermione’s hand, palm up, and presses a delicate kiss against the spot where Hermione’s pulse is beating through her wrist.

The sound of Hermione’s breath catching in her throat is loud enough for Narcissa to hear, before Andromeda’s laughter carries over from the booth where she’s seated, watching. “I look forward to hearing from you,” hermione whispers. She seems a little stunned. Narcissa squeezes her hand and lets it go.

“I look forward to taking you out, Hermione Granger.” She picks up her wine and Andromeda’s tonic water, and walks away with a seductive swing in her jean-clad hips. Narcissa flicks her blue eyes back and once again catches Hermione’s hazel eyes watching her.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my scribbles. I appreciate you for it and I hope you liked it.


End file.
